Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 452 — page 7: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

a ee eee — -__—— Fw —_—-- -_—— — is to have you answer us a few simple ques- tions.” “Hum! Wal, what be they?” Hotspur ; ‘Who is the man you were following this | morning?” 4a Bh ha Steve repeated the question. ‘* Who sez I was follerin’ anybody?” “Ido. Don’t try to dodge the point. I fol- lowed you from your Crosby street house, and saw you following him, and rode with both of you on the Elevated road. Now yon see the folly of playing off; so let us come right to the point. 0 was—” ‘* Allow me fer ter inquire, why was you fol- lerin’ me, mister?” Steve hesitated for a moment. “That point is immaterial,” he finally replied. *'That’s whar you are clean off. It’s so werry important that it looms up like a pillar o’ smoke in a starlight night. keyin’ ’round my castle towers?” **1 will soon explain that to your entire satis- faction—you can rely on that. Let us drop the subject for now, while you answer my question. Who was the tall man?” Bob again shut one eye and drew the corre- sponding corner of his mouth up. ‘* Strikes me you take me for a flat.” “What do you mean?” “Casually speakin’, I b’lieve you know a mighty sight more about him than I do!” “Then why should I ask you?” * Jes’ ter find out w’ot I know.” ‘You are wrong, boy; I know nothing about the man. Since you have this suspicion, I will say that I am trying to find out who the men is, for particular reasons; and that this morning I was following, not you, but him. See?” “T hear, but not a see shines athwart ther wide ’spanse ©’ sky. W’ot’s your rife? Wot d’ye want o’ his nibs, anyhow?” * You are too inquisitive,” Steve replied, im- patiently and angrily. “IT don’t buy no pig in a poke, an’ I won't | | | Wher’fore was ye a-mon- | ee ee Bob, the Street Boy Dete He did not, however, strike a blew with the whip, and he finally lowered it with a Closing | burst of profanity. ‘* Well, you’re a stuffy young cub anyhow.” ‘‘ Casually speakin’, P'm a few in thatere line,” Bob serenely replied. ** Nevertheless, Tl have it out of you.” ‘I don’t want none o’ yer measly ole ermetics —f that’s ther way you perpose ter git it outer me, ‘See yer’, boss.” interrupted Bet, “ will yer jes’ do me a favor?” ** 'W hat is it?” ‘’ Lemme crack dat sassy snip one over de ear. | Do it, an’ you'll make me happy.” ** Not now, old girl, but if we conclude to cut his skin five or six inches across under the chin. you can have the job,” “ Thank you, boss, an’doan’ yer forgitit. Td jes’ like ter black his eye fur him!” So saying the negress shook her big fist at Bob, but he viewed the hostile demonstration with his | usual placidity. **Don’t do it, Lil | black was ter spread, like it hez done on your | Classic feetures, w’ot a durk-eye it would be. See ther p’int, my colored frien’?—dark-eye, darky.” This retort aroused Bet to a pitch of fury, and she rushed at the boy, but Steve pushed him away and succeeded in pouring oi] on the trou- _ bled waters, metaphorically speaking. he then said, “and we wil! elucidate w’ot | know ’thout you tell your little | one; he seemed a stranger to fear, and as buoy- | romance—not fer Joseph!” “Yes, you will!” declared Steve, losing all patience. ‘* No, I won't!” coolly returned the boy, meet- ing the other’s gaze unflinchingly. “We'll see, I am prepared for just such stubbornness as this. Bet, give me the per- suader.” The negress promptly passed over a heavy whip, which Rellix craked sharply in the air. ‘* Now, then,” he exclaimed, *‘ yon will talk, or be cut into pieces with this lash, W hich shall it be?” CHAPTER VIL. THE WOMAN WITH THE KNIFE. STEVY’s appearance was really alarming, and he looked capable of doing all that he threaten- ed, but Bob heard him without any appearance of fear. “You'd better put down that cat-o’-nine-tails, mister. ‘Tam now going to shut you up, young cub,” have another inter- view this evening. Tam not disposed to waste many persuasive words on such as you, but I will make you talk or do you up. I want to know who that tall man was. By the way, what is your name, besides Rob?’ ‘* Plato Socrates Smith, ter wit, namely,” was the boy’s prompt reply. ** You lie!” ‘* W'ot’s ther English o’ that?” placidly asked Bob. Steve brought his foot angrily down on the floor. e had never seen another boy like this ant as a cork, and was as hard to govern as the wind. “Tl break your will or your back!” he vowed. *T don’t particularly aspire for your life, but unless you reveal what you know about that man, you will never go out of this house alive.” ** Gas!” ‘* What?” ‘Oh! ef you had a meter, an’ a cross-eyed in- | | etiv ; @ ne —— - — od '| @ lis verdict seemed pertinent. There was no way for lim to break out of the room, and as he could not expect out ide help. his prospects did not look particularly brilliant. “Won't poor Stumpy shed salt, sad tears when he finds me non est, not-thar-abus, this eve? Thar will be a void wacancy in ther firm o’ B. Bowery, Stumpy & Co., ter wit, name ly, an’ great will be my pard’s grief. How his lame leg will shake an’ sigh!” 30b shook his head, as though Stumpy’s grief was the greatest trouble he had in the world, and made another circu't of the room, Strong ez a burglar-proof safe, Ef it had a sign 0’ a jillitine, or w’otever they called them French machines w’ot chops off heads, it might be a Bastille. Yas, an’ I’m acornvict, put inter hock by a big-nosed, blear-eyed, uneddicated ole Bowery tough, darn him! Wish I’s Samson now, an’ I'd smash this shebang all ter glory Hannah Jane, an’ mash ’em inter cheap hash!” Bob was not Samson, and he soon satisfied | himeelf that all his efforts to escape would White, don’t! Ef ther | prove unavailing, Accordingly, E. sat down on the sole chair which the room contained and prepared to take matters easily. He could hear nothing from the other room, and judged that Steve Rellix and his allies were in consultation elsewhere. “Now, then, w’ot do ther gallus crooks want o’ me? Why he they so exercised ter know who ther tall man is? Why don't thcy go akcad ow’ find out, ’stead o’ merlestin’? an innercent. in. sophistercated youth like me? Goch all pigeon wings! ef I ever git outer quod Vl wake em sing a mournful psalm, b’gcsh! ‘Ther cetective firm o’ B. Bowery, Vidoeq & Co. is jest pentin’ fur a job, an’ Pil git arter em like a ccnteyious eperdemic. I'll land ‘em all in Sing Sing, or sy Sve ain’t Gamin Bob, ter wit, nemely.* he forenoon was fast passing, and, as Bob remembered his appointment with Andrew Wellburn, he felt a strong desire to “hey one lick at ther measly crooke, jes’ fer luck,” as he expressed it. What Wellburn would think of his failure to keep the appointment he did not know, and the chence that he desired, to enter the cashier's heuse, se med so likely to slip away that he grew to hate Rellix more and mcre every mcment. He had fully decided in his own mind that | Wellburn must be embezzling the furds of the spector, you’d do fur a gas-house. Ain’t sure | but ef I was ter pull yer nose, a dazzling light would shoot up like ther corpus o’ a beheated rooster. It’s big enongh—ther nose is. Whar do you put it, 0’ nights?’ Rellix did not answer. to carry out his worst did not want to do that, He was angry enouch threat at once, but, as he he did the next best thing. | To waste words on such an irrepressible fellow _ Was folly, so he shoved him into the room he I don’t keer a counterfeit half-cent fer | ther measly thing, an’ you'll lame yer arm all | up, a-jerkin’ it through ther atmosp’ere.” “T say you will either talk or be whipped!” shouted Rellix, whose plan was to scare the boy | if he could. san ‘*T hain’t no great objection ter waggin’ my tongue, but you won't help ther thing any by | carvin’my flesh. I don’t skeer fer acent. Na- tur’ wa’n’t kind ter me in that ere respex. I would ra’aly like ter be skeered, but I ¢an’t—not fer Joseph!” The whip was held directly over him, but Bob ! did not waver in the least, and the easy smile never left his face. ‘6 Ho’s a young debbil!” cried Black Bet. ‘‘ Gib me de whip an’ lemme excruciate him. Give it | and he would be lucky to escape them with his hyar!” “ Keep off!” Steve ordered. “ 'Thig is my af- fir, and I will manage it.” He then turned his attention again to Bob, and tried his best to conquer him. The er, was proof against argumentsand persuasion, and not a -vord would he say on the subject nearest Steve’s mind. As the reader knows he could have told but little concerning mysterions r. Bargrade, but he read the fact that he was among people who would hesitate at nothing, and though it might be just as safe for him that they should think he held an important secret; while a he told the truth he was not likely to be beheved., Steve, however, did not believe him as it was. He thought his prisoner really knew all about Bargrade, and did not cease trying to get the de- sired information until he bad raved himself hoarse. vy, howev- had prepared as a prison and locked the door. Then he turned to Ben. ‘* Did you ever see such a young imp?” ‘* Never, I swear.” Bet said nothing, but her face was full of _fury. Bob’s words to her renkled deeply, and She thirsted for revenge—dark revenge, at that. “Pl bend his will yet,” declared Steve. ‘* You'll never make him peach on ther tall mean.” ‘* Are you sure?” “Tam.” “Then TH kill him!’ Rellix declared, in a voice of concentrated wrath, Soll I!” muttered the negress, under her breath. Truly, Hotspur Bob wasin a den of vipers, life. In the meanwhile he was taking mat- ters very coolly and examining his prison. room, It had evidently been arranged for just such use, and, Bob suspected, had often Yeen utilized before. The door through which he bad entered was the only way out; the sole window, if such it could be called, was a square of anll- hued glass, which looked very thick and heavy, set in the floor above. Through this came a feeble light by means of which be surveyed his quarters, “ Ef this ain’t a measly fix, my name ain’t Bowery Bob, ter wit, namely, Tye been shet up by crooks, sharps, buncoists an’ toughs-in-giner- but this hyar dungeon rakes tea-cake right off ther boa ker-wallop. Casually speakin’, I’m inter it clean over my cavalry boots, that’s a Talmadge fact.” Ee Savings Bank. Young as the boy was, he knew that when a man enters the path of dissipaticn he is Jikely to lose all sense of honor and forget whose money he is handling. Bob had money in the bank jn question, and it became the hight of his present ambition to gain admittance to the cashier’s house end in- vestigate, He also wanted to seo Bargrade igeain, and learn just who that mystericus person was and what he was trying to do. The remainder of the forenoon wore av ay. | About noon Steve opened the door a trifle, set ina plate of food, and then retired without a word, ignoring Bob’s salutation. This, how- ever, did not disturb the boy’s appetite: he ate with relish and method. Then followed another lapse of time. So far as he could tell, no ene was stirring in the house; the only sound he could hear was the distant rattle, grumble and murmur from the street. Confinement began to worry him. “'Tuis hyar is a cold deal,” he said, disconso- lately. “Ef I git out, IN give these measly crooks a bite ter chaw on that’ll make their jaws rattle. Hyar be I, a free an’ ‘lightened Ameri- can citizen, cooped up like a gallus ole tiger in ther Central Park menagerie, an’ nobod y won't come round ter admire my majestic ‘¥ portions, Oh, I'd give a fresh ham sandwich if a ¢malh boy would come an’ poke me wi’ a stick.” ‘his idea was in bis mind when the key end- denly rattled in the door, which then swung back. Black Bet appeared in the opening. ‘* Hello, charmer 0’ my sou! en? tee-naily'” saluted the prisoner, genially. ‘ Casually eposk- in’, ’'m right glad ter see ye ” , But Bet stood still and ooked silently at hin, an evil expression on her hard face. W’ot’s ther matter?” asked Bob. lockjaw, or a torpid tonene? Open yer molars, incisivers an’ grinders, will yer, an’ a = hyar ther words 0’ wisdom whic flood yer massive brain. Go it, my ’ frien’; go it, like a lame hoss on a plank road!” ‘Boy, you talks too much” said Bet, in a es a ‘*Not fer Joseph! Orator is my best, holt, lessons with Cicero, Plato an’ Dex, D- * Got ther ve tooken 900 COr re hd